


Wingwoman

by Anonymous033



Series: For However Far We Run [3]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-16
Updated: 2015-05-16
Packaged: 2018-03-30 18:20:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3946921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anonymous033/pseuds/Anonymous033
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“One of these days, Sara, you’re gonna have to be my wingwoman.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wingwoman

Frack.

Frack.

Frack.

She, Felicity Smoak, was a failure.

She was a failure, because she couldn’t even flirt with the coffee guy without running her mouth off about a topic he showed completely no interest in.

_Archery, really?_

She didn’t even like archery.

And ‘good aim’ was _not_ something one talked about with casual acquaintances.

With a sigh, Felicity took out her phone and pulled up an oft-dialled number. She pressed ‘Call’ and put her phone to her ear, waiting impatiently for her best friend to pick up. Once the call connected, she barked without hesitation, “One of these days, Sara, you’re gonna have to be my wingwoman.”

“How ‘bout a wingman instead?” the very male voice on the other end of the line asked.

Felicity shrieked, pulling her phone away from her ear to check the ID. ‘Sara L.,’ it read.

“Who the hell are you?” she demanded as she raised her phone back to her ear. “You better not have stolen Sara’s phone, or you’ll find yourself regretting it _very_ soon.”

“Don’t worry, Sara’s in the shower. I’m her friend Oliver.”

“As in the Oliver she once told me she was friends with? Oliver _Queen?_ ” Felicity asked disbelievingly. “The Oliver Queen who got kicked out of his father’s house? Former-billionaire Oliver Queen?”

“Wow,” the voice answered, “you don’t mince words. _That_ Oliver, yes.”

Felicity cringed. “Sorry,” she apologized, “I tend to talk faster than I think. Which is kind of amazing, when you think about it, because I think pretty quick. Wait, what are you doing at Sara’s apartment? Did you sleep with her?”

“No! … Well, yes, but that was a long time ago. Actually, she overslept all on her own; we had plans to grab breakfast.”

“Oh,” Felicity replied lamely. In the background, she could hear Sara’s faint, _‘Ollie! Give me back my phone!’_

“Guess who’s out of the shower now,” Oliver told her cheerfully. “I gotta go. Nice talking to you, Felicity-According-To-the-Caller-ID.”

There was a loud rustle before Felicity could answer anything in return, and then Sara’s voice came onto the line. “Hey, Felicity, what’s up?”

Felicity sighed.

And then started on her tale of woe, which was the original purpose of her call, anyway.

\-------------------------

Sara set her up on a blind date.

Sara set her up on a blind date even though it wasn’t Felicity’s thing.

Sara set her up on a blind date even though it wasn’t Felicity’s thing, and she could have accepted it even then if her blind date hadn’t been _Oliver Queen._

Narrowing her eyes at the man in the nicely pressed suit—seated at the candlelit table and smiling pleasantly up at her as if they _hadn’t_ had a completely awkward conversation two months ago—Felicity held up a finger.

“Give me a moment, please,” Felicity said politely, and then stalked off towards the ladies’ room.

“ _I am going to kill you,_ ” she pressed through gritted teeth when Sara picked up her call.

“Is it going that bad?” Sara asked, sounding equal parts amused and concerned.

“I don’t know; I just got here. But Oliver Queen? _Playboy_ Oliver Queen? That’s who you set me up with?”

“He’s not a playboy anymore, Felicity,” Sara reminded her. “I may have been a wild child back in the day, but I know better than to set you up for a casual fling.”

Felicity scoffed. “You could at least have _told_ me, Sara.”

“You wouldn’t have agreed to the date if I had.”

“ _Wow,_ it seems you _do_ know me, after all.”

There was a pause on the line before Sara asked disapprovingly, “Why are you being so resistant about it? You’re not usually the one to judge a book by its cover.”

Felicity pinched the bridge of her nose. “Okay, maybe I don’t know Oliver Queen all that well,” she admitted. “But I wouldn’t have called you if I was having good luck in the romance department—and Oliver Queen? He doesn’t scream ‘romantic’ to me.”

“Give him a shot,” Sara coaxed. “There’s a reason why he and I are still friends after all these years—we’re both the kids who couldn’t figure out how to fit in our families. But we were only just kids. _You_ were the one who told me I could work things out, and you were right. Couldn’t you at least try having the same faith in him?”

Felicity blew a long breath of air out. “For you,” she answered. “But only this once. It doesn’t work out, we never see each other again. He and I, I mean. You and I are BFFs.”

Sara chuckled at that. “Thank you,” she said. “I owe you. Call me later; let me know how it goes!”

Felicity hung up, shaking her head. She checked her reflection in the mirror—her makeup was still intact and her hair was still just the right amount of coiffed, so she left the ladies’ room and headed back to their table.

“Hi,” she said as she approached Oliver, and his head jerked up. He looked surprised, but he jumped up immediately, rounding the table to pull out her chair.

“Hi,” he greeted. “Nice talk?”

“I chewed her out for not telling me you were my blind date,” Felicity replied, sitting down. “Thank you.”

“It would kind of defeat the purpose of a blind date, don’t you think?” Oliver asked as he returned to his own seat.

“Maybe, but judging by your reaction when you first saw me, you already knew it would be me.”

“Guilty as charged,” Oliver murmured sheepishly.

“So, it was only blind on _my_ side, and—” Felicity was interrupted by the appearance of a waiter, who bent and placed a dish in front of Oliver. Incredulously, she asked, “You started without me?”

Both Oliver and the waiter froze.

It would have been comical if she weren’t feeling so indignant.

“I thought you left,” Oliver admitted, looking uncomfortable for the first time that night. “I didn’t want the reservation to go to waste.”

_Huh._

“Miss?” the waiter cut in uncertainly. “Would you like me to get you a menu and set your place again?”

“Yes, please,” Felicity answered. The waiter gave her a single nod and walked away; Felicity turned back to Oliver, who was … decidedly avoiding her gaze. Uneasily, she asked, “I wasn’t gone that long, was I?”

Oliver made a sound as if he were clearing his throat. “Probably not, in hindsight. It’s just you didn’t seem to have a very good impression of me.”

“So, you expected me to just _what,_ leave you here?”

It might have been a trick of the light, but Oliver’s eyes seemed to glimmer for a second as they flicked towards her face. “Let’s just say you’re not the only one who needs a wingwoman.”

Felicity didn’t know how to respond to that.

Oliver cleared his throat again, adjusting the napkin in his lap. “You can try my oysters, if you want,” he offered. “Or we could wait for the menu. Or if you’d rather leave—”

“I’m Jewish. Oysters aren’t _kosher_ ,” Felicity told him. “But you should eat them before they get cold. If you don’t mind, maybe we could ask them to hold your main course so it’s served alongside mine.”

Oliver gave her a small, grateful smile. “I’d like that,” he answered.

\-------------------------

“That dinner turned out to be very nice,” Felicity said, swivelling around on her doorstep to smile at Oliver. He grinned shyly up at her from the walkway.

“It did,” he agreed. “So, um…”

“Isn’t this where you kiss me goodnight?” Felicity quipped.

He blushed, shifting a little on the spot. “I really like you,” he told her. “Do you think we could do this again?”

“Only if you promise not to order before me next time.”

His face dropped. “I am really so sorry—”

“I’m joking,” Felicity assured him, stepping down to catch hold of his hands. “And I’m sorry I made you feel like I didn’t like you. I think it was more that … I didn’t like the idea I had of you. I’m glad to say you proved me wrong.”

Oliver quirked his lips. “Is it in bad form to say ‘I’m glad I was right’?”

“Probably,” Felicity conceded. “But you can have crowing rights for now.”

“Just for now?”

“Shelving the smugness in time for the second date might be a good idea,” she teased.

Oliver burst into a full-fledged grin then, and his lips caught hers without warning. He pulled back quickly, though, looking almost afraid. “I’m so sorry. I—”

Felicity cradled his jaw and pulled his face back towards her own.

Their second kiss lasted longer. It was gentler and sweeter and less hurried, and it gave Felicity the opportunity to explore the taste of his lips; his musky scent—permeating her senses now that he stood so close to her; the feeling of his ironed collar giving way to the fingers she was burrowing under his shirt and lacing at his nape.

She would give the kiss a 12 out of 10.

She was also pretty sure she could feel the heated flush of her skin all the way down to her toes. Oliver smiled at her when they broke apart and reached a thumb up to swipe at a corner of her mouth.

“Lipstick,” he explained.

“It’s all over your face,” she pointed out. “Well, not _all over,_ but—you get what I mean.”

He shrugged. “I’m not going out anywhere else tonight.”

Felicity giggled. “It’s nice to know I made such a lasting impact.”

“Honestly? Sara’s told me about you before,” he confessed. “I’ve been wanting to meet you for longer than you could ever imagine.”

\-------------------------

It took three years for Felicity Queen to admit that Sara Lance did a pretty good job as a wingwoman.

But that was only because she knew Sara would never stop saying, ‘I told you so.’

* * *

Crossposted to: [Tumblr](http://anonymous033.tumblr.com/post/115265078762/wingwoman-an-olicity-one-shot-au-setting)


End file.
